Giddily married to her best friend. Texas native. A magazine editor. Novelist and writer. Working hard to become published. I'm delightfully whimsical, artsy and creative- almost to the point of sheer goofiness. I take frequent dance breaks wherever I am, whenever I can. My days are spent chasing my two Chihuahua puppies, Bitty and Bear. My motto: Be a happy duckie!
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Wednesday, May 02, 2007

Don't Fence Me In

It didn't take me long to figure out I was not like everyone else. Now, most people love to talk about how they're special, unique and just out of this world. They are always the greatest singers who have not been given a chance (that's only true in the my sister-in-law's case), a brilliant actor whose talent has been shunned or a star athlete who's sprained ankle kept him out of the big leagues. Very few people are actually different. Considering I come from a very unusual person (my father's picture is next to the word weird in the dictionary) and have married a fascinating person with his own intriguing family, my chances at normalcy were always shot.And that's just the way I like it.I don't want to be forced into polos and pearls, chained to the greatest boutiques and pressured into making friends with women named Kristi, Courtney and Lindsay. I don't want people to think I'm weird for wanting to wear an old prom dress to a hamburger restaurant just because it's fun. The last thing I want is to morph into some 9 to 5 yuppie who's life revolves around sports and social events. You know who I'm talking about. The khaki-short and loafer wearing men who you know were the popular crowd in high school and their "frosted" haired wives all wearing the same tunics and white capri pants with platform sandals draped in the same turquoise jewelry. There isn't a smidgen of personality in their DNA, nor in their equally boring children.And I'm tired of trying to be forced into that.Everywhere you go, people offer you two choices: Extreme A or Extreme B. Extreme A is a mindless drone of idiots, while Extreme B is a rebellious drone of idiots who rebel mindlessly. I feel as if though I am the lone calf outside the gates on a cattle ranch sometimes. My creativity is bursting through every space in the gate, yet I'm forced to sit behind the same red bucket and eat the same cud, day after day. I'm not normal, and I never will be. Stop trying to make it that way. I don't want to work overtime because it's "the right thing to do". No, I don't like re-writing press releases when I could be writing original pieces. No, I really don't like selling out cover shots to advertisers or being pressured to do so because they "pay my paycheck." I don't like boring pictures, I don't like boring stories, and I really don't like boring editorials. Who cares if I insulted people--that's the point! My job is to entertain and raise thought--no one cares about boring thoughts, only interesting ones. After giving me creative freedom, stripping it away article by article is just weathering my soul. The fingers that once flew freely across the keyboard are now bitterly stabbing the keys, and the social drama and rumors are enough to give me a headache. Creativity is about designing a different type of box, not forcing everyone into the same one. Don't fence me in.

4 comments:

Mom
said...

I hate it that the job you loved has disappeared on you and that you are being made to copy and paste boring medical articles. Just try to keep focusing on Fiesta and using that for your creativity. Hopefully the idiot in charge doesn't run this paper into the ground like they did the last one.

Keep your fighting spirit and don't let the drudges get you down. Someday you will be THE BOSS and you can call all the shots. Til' then....keep dancing!!!(The other "deaf" fools just can't hear the music.)